(Almost) Anything Goes
by Prof-the F.R.I.E.N.D.S fanatic
Summary: So, this is what happens when my muse deserts me then comes back with a less than brilliant idea. If you've ever seen the musical Anything Goes, this is just that, except instead of Billy Crocker and Hope Harcourt, it's Chandler Bing and Monica Geller. Enjoy. Rated T for swearing, future racism, and other stuff.
1. Intro and beginning Authors note Read

_**(Almost)**____**Anything Goes**___

_**AN: Okay, so I'm being about as unoriginal as you can get, but this idea hit me about fifteen minutes ago and I've managed to learn never to ignore your muse…it gets very pissy with you if you do. I'm essentially ripping off the incredible musical comedy Anything Goes, the only difference being that I am substituting two characters for Monica and Chandler.**_

_**I can't stress enough that the play is written by Guy Bolton, P.G, Wodehouse, Howard Lindsay, and Russell Crouse with the incredible music and lyrics by Cole Porter. Any FRIENDS characters mentioned are well, not mine. I will post song lyrics in this fanfic though I highly suggest that you look up the songs on youtube. I also assure you that I did not steal the script I am using, my highschool's winter musical is Anything Goes and I am in it. Finally, I would like you all to know that this DOES have some very racist jokes as this was written during the great depression when such jokes were deemed socially acceptable. This is just my major author's note/disclaimer/intro/background information. Below you will find a list of the characters. Essentially, I am just changing it from script form to description and changing two characters' names.**_

**Elisha J. Whitney- Wall Street Executive (and possible alcoholic)**

**Steward-of the Liner "American"**

**Reporter(Charlie)-for the Globe American**

**Cameraman- for the Globe American**

**Sir Evelyn(pronounced Eeve-el-in) Oakleigh- English Gentleman**

**Mrs. Wadsworth T. Geller (Changed from Harcourt)-Mother of Monica. Society Matron.**

**Monica Geller (changed from Hope Harcourt)-Engaged to Sir Evelyn.**

**Bishop (Henry T. Dobson)- Missionary**

**Reno Sweeney- Nightclub singer, former Evangelist**

**Chandler Bing (Changed from Billy Crocker)-Whitney's "General Manager" in love with Monica**

**Moonface Martin (known as Moonie)-Public Enemy #13**

**First Chinese (Ching)-Christian convert and gambler**

**Second Chinese (Ling)-Christian convert and gambler**

**Purser-of the liner "American"**

**Bonnie-Mull, traveling with Moon.**

**Captain-skipper of the liner "American"**

**Chastity (Angel)- a girl in the backup vocal quartet for Reno's act**

**Purity (Angel)- a girl in the backup vocal quartet for Reno's act**

**Virtue (Angel)- a girl in the backup vocal quartet for Reno's act**

**Charity (Angel)- a girl in the backup vocal quartet for Reno's act**

**Act 1**

**Scene 1: Afterdeck of the ship**

**Scene 2: On the ship's deck. Night.**

**Scene 3: Two cabins on the "A" Deck**

**Scene 4: The ship's deck**

**Scne 6:Evelyn's stateroom**

**Scene 7: The ship's deck**

**Scene 8: The Afterdeck**

**Act 2**

**Scene 1: Ship's lounge**

**Scene 2: The brig**

**Scene 3: The ship's deck**


	2. Act 1: Scene 1

_**(Almost)**____**Anything Goes**___

**Act 1; Scene1:**

Onto the gangplank of the massive cruise ship a tall man with slight facial hair and pitch-black hair stepped. He was dressed in a slick yet casual suit. His voice did nothing to soften his intimidating presence, gruff and authoritative.

He turned to the unfortunate steward who was carrying his bags.

"Take that thing out of here and take that down to stateroom 76M. Get me a good table in the dining room, reserve a seat at the chip's concert, place a $2.00 bet in the ship's pool…and find me a young fellow named Chandler Bing, he's got my passport." He ordered.

Near instantly the reporter who seemed to be at the forefront of the media frenzy stepped forward with his cameraman and called to the man.

"Will you step this way, Mr. Whitney we'd like to have a picture of you." He then turned to his cameraman, "Elisha J. Whitney…you know, Wall Street."

The cameraman nodded and snapped pictures left and right of THE Elisha J. Whitney posing with some woman. Finally looking up from his camera he spoke.

"Okay, we're through with you, Mr. Whitney. Who's next, Charlie?" he then noticed a well-dressed gentleman with a few women beside him, "Get him…No time to waste"

The reporter nodded and gestured for the three people to come forward.

"Come on, Sir—Sir Oakleigh, you and Miss Geller. Right here please. Society stuff."

After pushing them into focus, the cameraman turned to the reporter.

"What are their names?"

Immediately the reporter posed the question.

"Sir, what's your first name?"

The response was near instantaneous, coming in a thick British accent.

"Evelyn."

"Not her first name, **your** first name!" the cameraman pressed.

The man looked just the slightest bit offended before responding.

"I repeat; it is Evelyn. My fiancée is Miss Monica Geller.

The reporter gave a brief nod of acknowledgement and directed the cameraman, "Get a good roto shot. They're sailing to be married on the other side."

The second woman spoke up. She appeared slightly older with hair similar to Monica's but shorter and with what appeared to be a generous amount of hairspray.

"Is this where we stand?"

Scoffing slightly the cameraman responded, "Look, he can't marry both of you. Which one's the bride?"

Gesturing ever so slightly to the older woman Evelyn informed them, "This is Mrs. Geller."

Mrs. Geller turned to Evelyn, saying graciously with the slightest bit of an upper class tone "Please feel free to call me Mother."

"Righteo, Mother." Evelyn responded with a grin.

"I'm sorry Mrs. Geller," the reporter apologized without slowing down, "we want to get a picture of the happy couple."

"Hey, Miss, look happy. Say cheese!" the cameraman said enthusiastically.

"Hey, Edith, put your arm around her."

Monica linked her arm with Evelyn's, both appearing as though that was as much as they were comfortable with.

"I'm afraid this is the best we can do." Responded Monica.

The cameraman made a slight face before nodding, "Okay. Do you mind moving to one side?" he directed before catching a glimpse of the next group of stand out passengers as Evelyn, Monica, and her mother moved on. "Who are they?"

"Oh, a missionary and a couple of Christians." Came the reporter's uninterested response as the missionary and the two Chinese people boarded.

"Hey, nobody would print that stuff. Get us a gal!"

Catching a glimpse of a random young woman boarding the ship the reporter quickly gestured to her, "Hey, girlie, do you want to get your picture in the paper? All right, get in there and do your stuff, kid." He then turned back to the bishop. "Oh, Bishop, give me a little dope on yourself."

The young woman posed in various ways, the cameraman snapping away as the Bishop talked.

"The name is Henry T. Dobson, D.C.; Ph. D.; LLD.; Moderator of the Chinese Angelican Church, President Emeritus of the Foreign Missionary Societies of the World; Honorary Chaplain of the Army of the Chinese Republic; Author, Lecturer, President of the Westminister Conference-"

The reporter quickly cut him off.

"A swell story for our Chinese edition."

"How about my photograph?"

The cameraman nodded dismissively, "We want one of you coming up the gangplank."

A few minutes later after the bishop and his converts left and no one of interest came up the gangplank the two media reps were getting bored.

"Hey," the steward called out, "it's Reno Sweeney and her Four Angels!"

"No!" the reporter leapt up in disbelief, "Are they sailing?"

"Well they ain't planning to swim." The steward quipped.

The three of them then take off after Reno.

"Who is it they're making such a fuss about?" Mrs. Geller asked.

"Reno Sweeney, the famous nightclub singer, and she's got her four angels with her." Monica responded.

Disdain dripped from Mrs. Geller's voice as she responded, "Oh, yes, the former evangelist. There's no longer anything exclusive about an Atlantic crossing."

The commotion sweeps into their vicinity and the three of them get caught up in it as Reno and her angels as well as the reporter and the cameraman arrive. Mrs. Geller irritably pulled Evelyn along, as his interest was far too piqued for his own good.

"Miss Sweeney, how about some poses? For the Globe American!" the reporter exclaimed.

"I don't care what you take, Sweetie, just so long as you get my good side." Reno responded.

"Over here, girls." He responded, grinning.

Reno spread her arms, speaking to her angels. "First the old personality girls. Give them the teeth!"

Snapping pictures wildly the cameraman called out, "How about another one?"

"The Hallelujah, girls!" Reno exclaimed, the five sexy women raising their arms reminiscent of a very spirited church choir with just a tad more sass.

"What's that for?" the cameraman asked.

Reno gave a sly smile, "I still do a bit of evangelizing in my spare time—you meet a hell of a lot of sinners around a night club."

"Okay, Sister," he retorted, "but we don't want wings—we want legs!"

"That's all right, Sugar, we'll compromise. We'll give you a leg **and** a wing." Reno responded, her dark brown hair falling sexily over her rather exposed shoulder, one arm outstretched while the other pulled her skirt higher up her thigh, her angels following her lead.

Looking for a juicy scoop the reporter asked, "Anything to the rumor that you're marrying Hymsie Brown the fighter?"

Reno smiled, her tone dismissive. "There was some talk of it, but he was eliminated in the semi-finals."

The reporter nods, jotting it down before leaving with the cameraman. Not a moment later Chandler up, the sun shining through his short sandy brown hair.

"Chandler, baby, where have you been?" Reno exclaimed, embracing him quickly.

"Hi, Chandler!" the angels chorused flirtatiously.

With just a slight nod in the angels' direction he responded with a hint of pride, "I've been busy getting your new cabin. You've now got the suite reserved for traveling royalty."

"Thanks a million, Chandler—what would I do without you?" Reno smiled.

"You'll be finding out in just about," Chandler cast a glance at his watch, "ten minutes."

"Lordy, Lordy, how I wish you were coming along." Reno sighed.

"Amen!" the angels chorused.

At that moment Whitney stormed in, a slight stagger to his step. "Chandler! Where the devil have you been?"

"Why, Boss! Hello!" Chandler greeted Whitney with exaggerated exuberance, "Everything all right? How's the state-room?"

"Never mind about that, where the hell have you been for the past two weeks?" Elisha Whitney exclaimed, his voice booming.

"In Washington, taking care of your passport, you know the New Deal…" Chandler responded, slightly bemused before continuing energetically, "Boss, do you know who's sailing with you?"

"No. Who?" Whitney responded, sounding only half interested.

"Reno Sweeney!" Chandler exclaimed.

"Reno Sweeney?"

"I told her all about you." Chandler plowed on despite his boss' lack of recognition, "She's dying to meet you. Oh, Reno," he added, grabbing her hand and pulling her forward, "I'd like you to meet my boss, Mr. Elisha J. Whitney."

"Hello, sinner." Reno greeted, not masking her dislike well at all.

"Sinner? I'd like to be." Whitney responded deadpan yet fully meaning the innuendo.

"Great sense of humor." Chandler interjected quickly as he searched for the passport, "Meet the Angels. Purity, Chastity, Charity-"

"And I'm Virtue." A sexy blonde said, stepping forward.

"The easy kind." Purity added with a knowing smirk.

"How do you do." Whitney asked, no inflection at the end of his words what so ever.

"Say hello, girls." Reno instructed.

"Hello." The four Angels chorused.

Whitney came up with an idea.

"The cocktail bar opens as soon as the ship sails, I'd love to meet you for a drink."

"Say goodbye, girls." Reno added immediately, not amused.

"Goodbye." The four Angels chorused as they walked away.

"Nice to meet you. If I'm not in the Chapel, I'll be in the bar." Reno stated, exchanging glances with Chandler before leaving.

"Boss, what a trip you're going to have. The most beautiful girls in the world and you right in the middle of them. Now, am I the greatest general manager or am I not?" Chandler said with a grin, standing tall.

"You're not. You're fired!" Whitney responded gruffly.

"Again?" Chandler asked in comical disbelief.

"Yes again!" Whitney snapped, "Consider those two weeks in Washington your notice. You are fired in the sense of being through, finished," he started to walk away still ranting, "Caput, washed up, done, terminated, through…"

"What was that all about?" Reno asked, walking back up to Chandler having watched Whitney walk away.

"That was me being fired." Chandler replied deadpan.

"Great! Then you're coming to London with me!" Reno exclaimed excitedly.

"That's the best offer I've had since I've been unemployed."

"How long will it take you to pack?" Reno asked.

"Well, there's my other shirt…" Chandler joked with slight concern.

"You'll be great. You can sing, you can dance. Chandler, you're my new Master of Ceremonies." Reno smiled, enthused.

"Reno, I don't think so."

"Why not, I think you'd be marvelous." Reno asked, her eyebrows slightly furrowed over her blue eyes.

"But you're the one who's got all the talent."

"Tell me more."

"You're beautiful, smart, sexy…" Chandler trailed off.

"True, true, tell me more." Reno nodded.

"I'm running out of words that can do you justice!" Chandler said before starting to sing.

"**You're the Top"**

_CHANDLER:_

At words poetic

I'm so pathetic

That I always have found it best

Instead of getting them off my chest

To let 'em rest.

Unexpressed.

I hate paradin',

My Seranadin'

As I'll probably miss a bar.

So if this ditty,

Is not so pretty,

At least it will tell you how great you are.

You're the top.

You're the coliseum,

You're the top.

You're the Louvre museum,

You're a melody from a symphony by Strauss.

You're a Bendel Bonnett

A Shakespeare sonnet,

You're Mickey Mouse!

You're the Nile,

You're the Tower of Pisa,

You're the smile

On the Mona Lisa.

I'm a worthless check, a total wreck

A Flop!

But if baby, I'm the bottom,

You're the top.

_RENO:_

Your words poetic

Are not pathetic

On the other hand, boy you shine.

And I can feel after ev'ry line,

A thrill divine,

Down my spine.

Some critical Meanie.

Like Toscanini,

Might think your song is bad.

And I've got a notion

I'd second that motion,

But this is what I'm going to add.

You're the top,

You're a silver dollar,

You're the top,

You're an arrow collar.

You're the nimble thread on the feet

Of Fred Astaire.

You're an O'Neill Drama,

You're Whistler's Mama,

You're Camembare.

You're the Pearl

That the divers fetch up,

Milton Berle,

And Tomato Ketchup.

I'm a toy balloon,

That's fated soon to pop.

But if baby, I'm the bottom,

You're the top!

_CHANDLER:_

You're the top,

You're a Caesar Salad.

_RENO:_

You're the top,

You're a Berlin Ballad.

You're the boy I'd Swipe

For the perfect type

Of Male.

_CHANDLER:_

You're an Old Dutch master,

You're Lady Astor,

You're Chippendale.

You're a rose,

You're Inferno's Dante,

_RENO:_

You're the nose

Of the Great Durante

_CHANDLER:_

I'm just in the way

As the French would say

"De Trop"

_BOTH:_

But if baby, I'm the bottom,

But if baby, I'm the bottom,

But if baby, I'm the bottom,

You're the top!

**Encore:**

_CHANDLER:_

You're the top

You're the new invention,

_RENO:_

You're the top,

You're the fourth dimension,

You're the purple light

Of a summer night in Spain.

_CHANDLER:_

You're the National Gall'ry

You're Garbo's Salary,

You're Cellophane.

_BOTH:_

You're Romance,

_CHANDLER:_

You're the Steppes of Russia,

_RENO:_

You're the pants

On a Roxy Usher.

I'm a broken doll,

_CHANDLER:_

A Folderol,

_BOTH:_

A Flop!

But if baby, I'm the bottom,

You're the top!

"Well, Chandler, are you going to join the act?" Reno asked.

"No, Reno, business before pleasure." Chandler said with a slight smirk.

"But I thought you were just fired." Reno asked, perplexed.

Chandler let out a laugh.

"That doesn't mean anything. He hires and fires me every eight minutes. He forgot this," Chandler produced the passport, "Any second he'll come out here saying, 'Chandler, where the devil is my passport?'"

Immediately after Chandler finished speaking Whitney charged in.

"Chandler, where the devil is my passport?" he demanded.

Chandler hid a smirk as he said, "Here you are, Boss, I wish I were still working for you. I'd love to see the faces on those Englishmen when you clinch that amalgamation deal."

"Amalgamation? I forgot the papers. Chandler…" Whitney trailed off.

"Don't worry, Boss. I'll take care of it." Chandler said with his best kiss ass smile.

"You're hired again. What would I do without you?" Whitney asked rhetorically.

"You go ahead and have a good time." Chandler said, glancing quickly at Reno, "Reno, I want you to make sure Mr. Whitney has a good time."

"Don't worry, Chandler. I have four fallen Angels holding up the bar." Reno said before turning to Whitney. "Come, let us lead them beside distilled waters.

The two walked away as Chandler waved them off. He turned to go, only to jump back in surprise when he literally runs into Monica.

"Monica!" he exclaims in shock.

"Chandler. Are you sailing on this boat?" Monica asked curiously.

"No." Chandler sighed, "Don't tell me you are?"

"Yes, I am."

"Where have you been for the last three months? I've been going crazy trying to find you ever since that night." Chandler challenged calmly.

"Chandler, I…have something to explain…" Monica trailed off as Mrs. Geller and Evelyn start making their way over.

"Monica dear." Mrs. Geller called.

"Monica dear, the mater is crying for her young." Evelyn added.

"Evelyn," Monica turned, "This is Chandler Bing."

"Put it there, Bing, old chap." Evelyn greeted enthused, offering his hand for Chandler to shake.

"Sir Evelyn Oakleigh, my fiancé. We're sailing to be married in England." Monica explained.

"Your fiancé?" Chandler reiterated, doing his best to keep his face from falling.

"Yes." Monica confirmed.

"You're sailing to be married?" Chandler continued in denial.

"Yes." Evelyn responded, unaware of the inner turmoil this information had thrown Chandler into.

At that moment the boat whistle sounds and the steward makes his way around the deck.

"Then I'm sailing too!" Chandler declared stubbornly.

"We'll be meeting again then?" Monica asked with a smile.

"Again and again and again." Chandler responded.

Then the steward made his way past where they were standing.

"All ashore that's going ashore! All ashore that's going ashore!"

As he walked away Monica, Evelyn, and Mrs. Geller walked away as well. Chandler would have no peace and quiet though as Reno soon walked up beside him as the boat whistle sounded once more.

"Chandler, that was the last whistle." Reno pointed out.

"Reno, I'm sailing." Chandler responded.

"So I see."

"I don't know just how I'll manage. I haven't any ticket, money or cabin." Chandler sighed.

"There's my cabin."

"I haven't any clothing…!"

"I could lend you a nightgown." Reno offered with a smirk.

"Thanks." Chandler responded, unenthused. He quickly spotted the Purser and strode over to him. "Here's the just the man I want to see. Can I have a word, Purser?"

"Excuse me. There are some F.B.I. men waiting for me at the gangplank." The Purser said.

"F.B.I.?"

"What's happening, Purser?" Reno asked curiously.

"A couple of gangsters are supposed to be on board. The . think they're trying to get out of the country on this ship. I understand one of them is dressed up like a preacher." The Purser informed.

Chandler's eyes widened. "A preacher! I've seen that guy. Say, he's at the bottom of the gangplank. Come on, I'll show you."

A young man, about twenty-six years old peeked out from behind a corner. He had short black hair that curled a bit at the tips and fine features. Peeking over the top of him is a young woman of about the same age with brown-blonde hair and hazel eyes.

The young man turned the corner, dressed as a preacher and carrying a violin case. Suddenly the case popped open revealing a machine gun. The young woman, having walked past him came running back, squealing in a hushed, nasally voice.

"Hey, fix the violin. Fix the violin!"

The young man quickly closed the case up, casting a furtive glance around, his bright light blue eyes shining. He turned to her, his brows furrowed and his face a slight sulk.

"I'm scared to death of this thing. Why did you have to get me a minister's costume?"

The woman quickly responded, "Well, anyway, you got aboard all right."

"But I know I'll get into trouble in this get up. I don't know how to act like a minister-I don't see why I couldn't have been a cowboy or an Indian…" he complained, his accent undistinguishable, likely from somewhere around New York City.

The woman had a similar accent but her voice was very high pitched and just the slightest bit nasally. "Now you look great in that preacher suit, Mooney. I'd hardly even recognize you myself. You just keep your head and we'll make a clean get away. I'll go find Snake Eyes."

She quickly disappears right before the Bishop enters, walking straight up to Moon, happy to see another clergyman.

"Doctor! May I present myself? I am Bishop Henry T. Dobson…"

"Hi ya, Bish…" Moon replied casually.

"Are you going to the conference?"

"The conference? No, I think I'll go to bed early tonight." Moon responded.

"I mean the Westminister Conference…"

"The Westminister Conference? No, I'm not a West Minister…I'm really more from the East…" Moon said, fudging his way out of the questions, trying to slyly escape the conversation.

"What is your field, Doctor?"

"Why, I'm sort of a…kind…of a…a sort of missionary." Moon stumbled, searching for the word.

"Missionary! Where?"

" Uh, 'way out in China…" Moon said, taking a shot with the farthest place he could think of.

"China!"

"Way…way out in China!" Moon said, gesturing with his hands.

"I served in China for years."

_Of course you did…_ thought Moon.

"Well, I wasn't exactly in China, you see, I was more in…in…" Moon stuttered, trying to dig his way out of the hole he fell in.

"Oh, I see…you were in Indo China."

"That's it!" Moon exclaimed, "I was in Indoor China, and you was in Out-door China."

"We'll have lots to talk about. I'll see you later. Oh 'la, chin-chow, arigotow!"

"I don't know, but I think it's downstairs." Moon said helplessly, relieved the conversation was over as the Bishop left.

The same young woman Moon was with before walked up to him.

"Mooney!"

"Gee, Bonnie," Moon sighed, "I'm in trouble already."

"Have the cops seen you yet?" Bonnie asked curiously.

"What cops?!" Moon exclaimed worriedly.

"There are a couple on board and they're looking for you and Snake Eyes." Bonnie replied.

"How'd you know?"

"I've been trailing them. They told the captain they were looking for a guy dressed up as…" Bonnie trailed off then whispered sheepishly, "a preacher."

"Oooooo ooooo oooo!" Moon freaked, "You better take the violin. Where can I hide?"

"Stay away from your cabin." Bonnie informed.

"Why?" Moon asked cluelessly.

"They're watching that. I know. Mix with the passengers, get into a group." She suggested.

"What?" Moon asked distressed.

"Get into a group of passengers…I'll find you later." Bonnie said before walking away before Moon could respond.

"Wait a minute," Moon said, then whined, "Bonnie."

Mrs. Geller, Monica, and Evelyn chose that moment to walk down the stairs to the main deck, pausing once they arrived, not a few steps from Moon. Seeing his opportunity Moon slowly started to slip into the group.

"Evelyn," Mrs. Geller cooed, "I am so anxious to meet your mother."

"Oh," Evelyn said, "that reminds me…I must send Mater a wireless."

Seizing the opportunity Moon leapt in.

"Yes, always keep in touch with Mater. She's a man's best friend."

"Mater has been," Evelyn paused, a bit subdued as he tried to edge Moon away, "horribly upset with all this delay."

"Oh, she'll understand, Evelyn." Mrs. Geller replied soothingly, "I wrote to her about Monica's poor health."

Getting more desperate, Moon once again tried to insert himself into the conversation.

"You never appreciate good health until you lose it. Am I right?" he said with a grin.

Mrs. Geller turned to him, her expression cold and her voice set to match. "Really?"

"Ya know, I used to have palpitations in the pulpit and cramps in the crypt-" Moon continued only to be cut off as Evelyn spoke, detaching himself from Moon.

"Let's go up towards the front of the ship." Evelyn suggested to Monica and Mrs. Geller.

Not one to give up, Moon quickly slung his arm around Evelyn's shoulders. "Yes, let's. That's a great idea. Did I ever tell you-"

A thoroughly irritated Evelyn once again cut off Moon.

"Doctor, do you mind converting **somebody else**?!"

At that moment the purser walked around the corner, speaking to Chandler while the steward, a few sailors, and Reno and her Angels followed them. Moon, seeing the purser quickly decided to duck behind Evelyn and Mrs. Geller.

"What did he look like, how tall was he…" the purser asked Chandler.

"There he is!" Chandler cried, pointing to the Bishop who stood watching the water in the harbor.

All business, the purser ordered the sailors, "Seize that man."

He then stalked up to the Bishop. "Come on, Moonface, you're not sailing on this boat."

Thoroughly confused and quite frightened the Bishop squirmed in the tight grip of the sailors.

"What is this, I protest!" he protested, "Help! Help! I am Bishop Henry T. Dobson. Help!"

As the Bishop was getting dragged off down the gangplank Moon slipped off to the side, giving a slight wave from behind the hordes of passengers that had come to watch. With a quick little wave he said, "Bon Voyage."

Unaware that he had mispronounced it he scurried off to another part of the boat.

"**Bon Voyage"**

_CHORUS:_

You mean "Bon Voyage."

_CHANDLER:_

I hate to say goodbye, sweetheart.

_MONICA:_

By the seashore

_ :_

You mean "Sur la plage,"

_MONICA:_

We'll sit and watch the sea.

_EVELYN:_

And share a spot of tea.

_BOYS:_

Oh my dearie,

_ :_

You mean "Ma Cherie,"

_BOYS:_

I'm yours for life,

_ :_

You mean, "Par la vie,"

_BOYS:_

So kiss me, pretty wench,

In English or in French.

Bon Voyage (_mispronounced_)

_ :_

Bon Voyage

_Repeats from beginning with girls singing with ._

_ALL:_

Bon Voyage, (_mispronounced_)

Bon Voyage.

After the commotion died down, everybody but Chandler left, having no more interest in the area. Not long after, Moon walks onto the deck near Chandler.

"Well," Moon sighed, making small talk, "we're on our way."

"You're telling me!" Chandler said, excitedly yet nervous.

"I want to thank you for what you did for me. It was really a great favor."

"I don't know what it was, Doctor, but you're certainly welcome." Chandler said, not caring quite enough to ask what he did.

"All that commotion; it hid me from some people I didn't want to see…"

"I know, I can't say goodbyes myself. I couldn't say goodbye to a girl. Now I'm in a hell if a ness. Oh, pardon me, Doctor." Chandler apologized for swearing.

"Oh, I don't give a damn." Moon said dismissively. "Hey, wait a minute. You did me a favor. Maybe I can do you one."

"I'm afraid not, Doctor." Chandler sighed, "My trouble isn't spiritual, it's financial."

"Oh, if it's money you want, I can get you some of that." Moon said in his usual upbeat manner.

"You can?" Chandler asked.

"Sure, the fellow who's sailing with me has about fifty grand with him. Very easygoing with it too…which is natural. Rime was when he used to make the stuff himself." Moon said nonchalantly.

"Mooney!" Bonnie exclaimed in greeting, walking up to him.

"Oh, Bonnie, did you see Snake Eye…I mean, did you see Mr. Hill?" Moon asked.

"That's what I came to tell you about."

"Did the cops get him?" Moon asked worriedly before he realized Chandler was with them. "I mean, was he forcibly retained?"

"I don't know about that." Bonnie said with a shrug. "He just never showed up…and he left me holding his ticket."

"Is that a ticket?" Chandler asked, brightening considerably. "Say, this is just as good as money!"

"Oh, if it's a ticket you want, here…be my guest." Moon said, taking the ticket from Bonnie and handing it to Chandler.

"Thanks very much…it's good of you, Reverend."

"And how about his passport? Could you use this too?" Moon asked, holding it up.

"God help me if they ever look at this picture." Chandler replied, a tad startled by the man's appearance.

"Oh," Moon said without concern, "we can fix you so's you'll resemble it. Give you a little scar here, part your hair differently, then I can break your nose-"

"Let's not be hasty." Chandler said quickly, holding his hands up.

Moon shrugged as though it were of little difference to him, "I could break it slowly."

Bonnie, who had been standing patiently beside Moon, watching Chandler nudged him, "Mooney, fix me up."

"What?"

"Fix. Me. Up." Bonnie stressed, attempting to clarify it for Moon.

"Oh, excuse me. This is Bonnie. I think you two ought to get acquainted. After all, you are going to be roommates." Moon introduced.

"Roommates?" Chandler asked, his brow furrowing.

"Yes. She goes with Mr. Hill's ticket." Moon responded.

"Sorry, I've got other engagements. If it's all right with you Doc, I'll bunk with you. Goodbye." Chandler said, making a quick exit.

"Gee, Mooney, it's going to be awful lonesome in that big cabin." Bonnie sulked, then added meaningfully, "All by myself."

Looking slightly uncomfortable Moon scolded, "Now, Bonnie! Don't bring sex into this. It's bad enough being a minister!"

**End of Scene 1**


	3. Act 1: Scene 2

_**(Almost)**____**Anything Goes**___

**Act 1; Scene2:**

Later that night Monica and Evelyn stood on the deck of the ship. The moonlight shone down upon them, the stars sparkling pinpricks in the everlasting pitch-black sky.

"Isn't it lovely?" Monica sighed.

"Uhmmm…"

"Look at the ocean in the moonlight."

"Uhmmm…"

"Isn't it beautiful?" Monica asked.

"Uhmmm…a bit overdone, I should say." Evelyn responded.

"And the moon is overdone too, I suppose?" Monica challenged in quiet disbelief.

"No, it's all right for what it is; but I have never shared the general enthusiasm for the moon." Evelyn replied.

"Evelyn, here we are on the deck of a ship, in the moonlight. Doesn't that mean anything to you?"

Slightly uncomfortable, Evelyn moved as though to kiss her, but found he couldn't and pulled away.

"Sorry, old dear, but until I get my sea-legs, I'm afraid I just can't rise to it. All the Oakleighs are bad sailors…" Evelyn apologized.

Before Monica could respond Chandler strode onto the deck, an energetic spring to his step and lilt to his voice.

"Hello there! I hope I'm intruding." Chandler greeted the pair enthusiastically.

"Not a bit. As a matter of fact, we were just about to call it a night." Evelyn responded cheerily.

"I'd call it a night. As far as I can see, there's only one thing wrong with it…" Chandler retorted with false cheer, giving a pointed look at Evelyn.

"Yes, I was just saying;" Evelyn responded, not catching Chandler's hostile point, "there's a bit of a roll…I don't like being tossed about."

A slightly devious gleam came to Chandler's eyes as he came up with an idea.

"We'll be all right once we get past the Narrows. That's the roughest place on the coast."

"How soon do we get there?" Evelyn asked with a tinge of worry.

"You'll know it when we do." Chandler responded before jumping slightly. "Oh! Oh! Feel that roll! It's starting."

"Well," Evelyn gulped, "I think I shall go down and prepare myself for death…and you Monica…"

"Well, I-" Monica started.

"It's getting worse. Oh, oh, there it goes." Chandler exclaimed.

"Oh, and here I go," Evelyn wobbled slightly on his way towards his cabin, "Toodle-oo."

Once Evelyn was gone Monica gave a slight laugh. "Was that fair?"

"Fair?" Chandler exclaimed, "I find you standing in the moonlight with him. I didn't shoot him. I didn't push him overboard. I think I was more than fair."

"Look Chandler," Monica sighed, "you've got to stop this. We met one night. One single night. At a party. We danced; we had a little too much wine. We took a little spin around the park."

"A little spin! You call twelve hours in the back of a taxi a little spin?" Chandler exclaimed in disbelief.

"Nine hours." Monica retorted.

"Twelve…nine with you and three more before I borrowed enough to pay off the thug that was driving." Chandler corrected.

"Well, I spent three hours trying to explain to Mother, and you weren't much help."

"I was very nice to your mother." Chandler defended himself.

"Nice? Telling her you were George Bernard Shaw?"

"Well, I wanted her to know you were in safe hands." Chandler joked with a tinge of defensiveness.

"Well, she wasn't amused. You'd better stay out of her way on this trip, Chandler. She hasn't forgotten or forgiven you for that night." Monica warned.

"I see you've forgotten." Chandler said dejectedly yet his eyes gleamed challengingly. "What's this nonsense about a fiancé?"

"It isn't nonsense Chandler. Sir Evelyn and I have been engaged for a long time…except for nine hours one night."

Chandler folded his arms across his chest and looked pointedly at Monica.

"Well, twelve." She amended.

"Well as far as I'm concerned, it's off again, and this sea-going hack is a big improvement over that taxi cab. Even the moon's doing better by us." Chandler said.

"It's getting late, Chandler. I'd better call it a night." Monica sighed, starting to walk away.

"Not yet, please-" Chandler pleaded, darting in front of her, "jus five minutes…just a 'quick spin' around the deck."

"I remember what happened the last time we took a quick spin." Monica retorted, still resisting.

"Monica, here we are on the deck of a ship in the moonlight. Doesn't that mean anything to you?" Chandler replied, mimicking her words to Evelyn.

"**It's Delovely"**

_CHANDLER:_

The night is young, the sky is clear,

And if you'd like to go walking dear,

It's delightful, it's delicious, it's delovely.

I understand the reason why you're sentimental

'cause so am I,

It's delightful, it's delicious, it's delovely.

You can tell at a glance,

What a swell night this is for romance,

You can hear dear mother nature murmuring low,

Let yourself go!

So please be sweet my chickadee.

And when I kiss you, just say to me.

"It's delightful, it's delicious, it's delectable,

it's delirious,

It's dilemma, it's d'limit, it's deluxe, it's

Delovely!"

_MONICA:_

I feel a sudden urge to sing,

The kind of ditty that invokes the spring.

So control your desire to curse.

While I crucify the verse.

This verse I've started seems to me,

The tinpantithesis of melody.

So to spare you all that pain,

I'll skip the darn thing and sing the refrain.

Me Me Me Me Me,

Re Re Re Re Re,

Do So Mi Do La Si,

Time marches on and soon it's plain,

You've won my heart and I've lost my brain,

It's delightful, it's delicious, it's delovely.

Life seems so sweet, that we deicide,

It's in the bag to get unified,

It's delightful, it's delicious, it's delovely.

_CHANDLER:_

See the crowd at the church,

See the proud parson propped on his perch,

Hear the sweet beat of the organ sealing our doom.

There goes the groom!

_MONICA:_

Boom!

_CHANDLER & MONICA:_

How they cheer and how they smile

As we go galloping down the aisle.

_(Chorus enters)_

_CHANDLER:_

It's divine, dear

_MONICA:_

It's devein, dear,

_CHANDLER:_

It's devundebar,

_MONICA:_

It's d'victory,

_BOTH:_

It's d'vallop. It's de vinner, it's d'voiks,

It's delovely.

_CHORUS:_

They settled down as man and wife,

To solve the riddle called married life.

_GIRLS:_

It's delightful,

_BOYS:_

It's delicious,

_CHANDLER:_

It's delovely.

_CHORUS:  
_They're on the crest, they have no cares

_They're just a couple of honey bears._

_GIRLS:_

It's delightful,

_BOYS:_

It's delicious,

_MONICA:_

It's delovely.

_CHORUS:_

You can tell at a glance

What a swell night this is for romance.

You can hear dear mother nature murmuring low,

_CHANDLER: CHORUS:_

Let Yourself Go!

So please be sweet, my chickadee, Ooo…

And when I kiss you, please say to me Ooo…

_CHORUS:_

It's

_CHANDLER:_

Delightful

_CHORUS:_

It's

_MONICA:_

Delicious

_CHORUS:_

It's

_CHANDLER:_

Delectable,

_CHORUS:_

It's

_MONICA:_

Delirious

_CHORUS, CHANDLER, & MONICA:_

It's dilemma, it's delimit, it's deluxe

It's delovely!


End file.
